


One Being Missing and the World Feels Empty

by Aragarna



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode Tag, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragarna/pseuds/Aragarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode tag to 5x01. It's been the longest six weeks of Elizabeth's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Being Missing and the World Feels Empty

After the longest and most trying six weeks of her life, Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much more she could take. She’d try very hard to stay afloat, for Peter’s sake, but she could feel the cracks. She was sinking. It was like her whole body was demanding his presence by her side and his absence was making her terribly alone.

Neal, Mozzie, Diana and Clinton had made it a mission to make sure there was always someone around for her, taking turns. Mozzie would offer books to read, and later come by to discuss them, before offering new ones. The books would be usually light reads, fun escapades and Mozzie was surprisingly tactful and sensitive when the conversations didn’t fail to come back to Peter. The young agents would often visit her after their work day, or offer her a ride to the detention center. They would keep her up to date with the FBI investigation on Pratt’s murder and – even though it didn’t seem to go anywhere – would give her the reassurance they wouldn’t give up. She would also sometimes talk babies with Diana, whose pregnancy had become too obvious to hide any longer.

Of course, the most present at her side, her real pillar, was Neal. The young man spent most of his weekends with her, and often dropped by at night, after work. Naturally, the absence of his friend was also weighting down on Neal, especially after everything that happened with James. He was feeling abandoned and guilty. Elizabeth had done her best to talk him out of his guilt – and to ignore that nasty little voice at the back of her mind whispering to her that he was responsible. She knew, rationally, he wasn’t, and she hated herself for even thinking of blaming Neal. But as time went by, it was getting harder to be rational. In the end, though, she was grateful for his steady and comforting presence by her side, and together, they managed to be a little stronger.

They had all been wonderful, really. But there was no one to fill the void in her bed at night. No shoulder to bury into, no fingers to brush her tears away, no one to hold her close and safe. The one person that could have comforted her was the one missing. And Elizabeth was feeling helpless and desperately alone.

Elizabeth buried herself into work. Burke Premiere’s paperwork had rarely been so up-to-date. There was not a single bill remaining unpaid, not a single reservation pending, not one schedule left unchecked. She worked herself to exhaustion. But no distraction could really make her stop thinking about Peter.

Visiting him in prison was an ordeal in itself. It demanded her to gather all her forces not to break down in front of Peter. The simple sight of those cold and hostile walls made her sick. It was eating her to see him there, out of his element and scared – even if he would not admit it. She would appear strong and positive. She would reassure him, share the strength to go on, keep hope. He was feeling guilty she had to go through this, and not be there for her. And despite her best efforts to hide her own fear, he was obviously worried about her.  
She couldn’t imagine this to become their life. Each visit left her a little more drained, a little more scared about the future, a little more desperate.

\-------------------------------------

  
Clinton had driven her to the prison the day before to drop Peter some decent clothes for his hearing, and today, he was taking Elizabeth to the Court. To say she was nervous would be the understatement of the year. She was at the same time impatient for that hearing to be over, and dreading the outcome. Elizabeth was doing her best to be strong, but if she was honest, she wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to keep it together.

In front of the court, Elizabeth briefly caught sight of Peter being brought in, hands cuffed in front of him. They exchanged a quick glance and a smile, sending each other a silent _hi, Hon_.

Then, with Clinton by her side, she just stood there, on the stairs of the Supreme Court, waiting for their faith to be decided by some anonymous prosecutor that knew nothing about the whole story. The wind was making her shiver, unless it was the cold inside her, wrapped around her heart ever since she received the call that Peter had been arrested, six weeks ago.

With a nod of the head, Clinton indicated her to turn around and there Peter was, standing on top of the stairs, alone, with a wonderful smile growing and illuminating his face. This was all she needed. Elizabeth ran into his arms, wrapped hers around his neck and held him tight. She had imagined this moment a hundred different ways, wishing it would come soon, and dreading it wouldn’t happen for the next twenty years. But imagination couldn’t render the delicious feeling of warmth and security recovered that overwhelmed Elizabeth, as she buried her face in his shoulder, as she felt his familiar arms around her, his strong chest against her body, his warm breath against her neck… Peter was free. The nightmare was over.

Elizabeth couldn’t tell how long it was before Peter pulled gently away, just enough to look at her. To Elizabeth, his smile appeared like the most wonderful thing she’s ever seen. Wearing his favourite suit, shaven and hair combed, Peter looked exactly himself again.

“I love you, Hon,” he whispered.

Elizabeth felt a sudden lump in her throat. “I love you too, Hon,” she breathed back in an unsteady voice as she felt the tears growing at the corners of her eyes.

Peter kissed her. It was a strong and passionate kiss, and when they parted, they were both crying and smiling at the same time. In concert, they brushed the tears away, and took each other’s hand.

Clinton was looking at them, a smile at the corner of his lips.

“Hey Jones,” Peter greeted his Junior Agent. They exchanged a heartfelt handshake. “We’re making you wait, sorry.”

Jones winked. “Don’t worry. It’s good to see you free, Peter.”

FIN.


End file.
